Chemistry
I swallow hard as he walks towards me. There's something so graceful about his movements, like those of a jungle cat. Totally aware of the space surrounding him and the dominance he has over the situation.
I back up, one step at a time. There's something about the glint in his eyes, michevious and dangerous, alight with amusement. It's the look of a crazy man. It makes me nervous.
"You know what the issue is with this world?" He asks softly. My back hits the shelves of hats and I don't respond.
"Everyone wants a magical solution for their problems and everyone refuses to believe in magic."
He stands just an inch away, his toes almost pressing against mine. I struggle to breathe as a small smile passes across his wickedly curved lips.
"So Emma, tell me this... do you think I'm crazy?" He asks softly.
He raises a hand to brush a strand of hair gone awry off my face. His fingers are surprisingly gentle and soft. I try not to tremble in response to his touch,
"Completely and utterly," I growl weakly.
He laughs, low and intamite, enough to send a shiver through me. "Oh little Swan. Don't you understand? You're the crazy one. Crazy because you won't open your eyes and look around you. You can't open yourself to the truth."
"It's not truth, it's not anything but a part of your wild and insane imagination. You're worse than Henry for god-sake, come on, I mean -"
He places a hand over my mouth, eyes hard and slightly narrowed. His skin is warm against my lips and I fight the temptation to bite into the skin in the hopes of being released.
He tuts softly. "Now, now Emma. Your son, Henry, is closer to the truth than you could ever even begin to realise."
I glare at him, trying to control the racing thumping of my heart within my chest.
"I've watched you for a long time Emma," he murmurs, eyes growing warm. "Just like many other times in my life I've had to sit on the outside, always watching in. But no more. I'm sick of being excluded, an outsider."
"You're crazy," I try to say, but it comes out mumbled. He may not be able to comprehend the words, but I guarentee he know's exactly what I said.
He laughs again. Deliciously inviting, warm and a tad bit insane. "Don't you understand Emma? You're special. You can break this curse."
I shove him away suddenly and although he doesn't step back or even try to give me any space, his hand does drop. "Just shut up! God damn it just shut the hell up! I can't take this anymore, it's driving me -"
"Insane?" He asks, eyebrow arched perfectly.
Anger bubbles beneath the surface. "Yes! It's driving me insane! Just let me and Mary Margret go or I swear I'll -"
"Do what? Arrest me?" He grins, his eyes darting down to my lips. "No, because then you'd have to explain about Mary Margret escaping from Jail."
"Just stop interupting me!" I snap, flushing slightly. "Let me talk for a change, okay? I'm sick to death of all this. I don't even know why I'm here, why aren't I tied up? Why are there so many hats in here? Do you have some kind of sick collective habit or something? Why did you kidnap us? Why -"
"Enough," he growls suddenly and his lips are against mine.
I'm surprised to say the least. But that's all I have time to feel because his lips claim my roughly, his impatience evident from the pressure he uses in the kiss. I find myself grasping at him, my hands bunching in the material of his shirt beneath his thick jacket.
His arms are around me, pulling me into his intoxicating warmth as he breaks me down with his tongue and teeth, causing my knees to go weak and my limbs to feel like jelly. I can barely hold myself up. I just can't get enough of him.
He nips at my lower lip, a sound like distant thunder echoing from the back of his throat as his hands suddenly wrap under my thighs, lifting me up and resting me on one of the shelves. I wrap my legs around his waist, drawing his body close to mine so that I can get as close as possible.
"Emma..." He growls, pulling back to nuzzle in my neck.
I press against him lips presses kisses to his cheek and chin, sliding my tongue along the warmth of his delicious skin. His scent makes me breathless, musky and strong - oddly enough, it reminds me of the woods, the forest. It just makes me cling to him more.
"I've wanted you for so long..." He whispers, lips claiming mine once more, rough and possessive. "Ever since you first arrived."
I pull back for breath, raise a hand and caress his cheek. He shudders beneath my touch and I lean in to whisper sweet words of release. "Then have me."
The world fades into nothingness as he kisses me once more, everything forgotten - including a very unfortunate Mary Margret.
